the duchess will see you now

Italian Potato Dumplings

The main event the day before Easter was the gnocchi. Gnocchi has long been a favorite dish in our family, made ever more desirable by the fact that it takes a day of labor to provide the hungry with about a half an hour of devouring the scrumptious dumplings until they are but a memory one is left longing for until the next time.

(Are you tired of Easter posts already? Well, life takes precedent over writing a daily journal, uploading photos to share, and organizing said journal and photos into a comprehensive article that can be shared with the interested and dearly loved. Certainly the dearly loved still anticipate a recap of the holiday, yes?)

Zia got started early at her own place and then UB chauffeured her down to the Estate where she continued to work.

For those who don’t know, gnocchi are Italian potato dumplings. Here Zia is removing the skins from the boiled potatoes. It is essential to use a good potato like an Idaho. Nonna always insisted upon “eee-da-ho patate.” Speaking of Nonna, all of my life I can remember yearning for her gnocchi, but you know, as with any pasta dish, it is the sauce that makes or breaks it. Without a good sauce, you cannot clinch the blue ribbon. Fortunately, Zia mastered the sauce before Nonna died and we are still able to enjoy our traditional Italian dishes just the way she used to make them. Also, while Zia made the gnocchi we all conversed about Nonna and Tata. When we are all together and collectively remembering them and talking about them, that is exactly when they are still with us. And why wouldn’t they be? In my opinion, that is the meaning of eternal life; i.e., that when you have lived, laughed, and loved well, you will live on as long as the lives you touched are still feeling the effects of your existence.

When Nonna was alive, she taught me to make gnocchi. Zia taught Rock to make gnocchi. But if Zia is around and there is gnocchi to be made, you’ll be lucky if she lets you help. Yim asked her to teach him for my birthday dinner, but she mainly made him watch! This time, though, she put Luvy to work.

Once the potatoes have cooled and are peeled, they are pushed through a ricer.

On the night that Luvy went into labor with Rockwell, we were all together at their house. That day, while Luvy and Rock were at work, Zia, Mummy, and I made gnocchi. We were sure that baby was going to come sometime soon and we were in a celebratory mood. By the time Luvy got home from work the table was set with heaping bowls of gnocchi ready to be eaten. But Luvy went straight to her room to lie down. By the time Rock got home from work and checked on her, she was moaning in pain. Rock came out of their bedroom and announced that we’d better eat quick. That little baby smelled our gnocchi and was trying to push his way out. Of course Zia let Gnocchi Rocky help, as well.

Once the dumplings were made there was time to relax, regroup, and do the dishes. Rockwell watched a video while the womenfolks set the table.

The day stretched on towards mealtime and we gathered to the feast.

When Zia and I host an Italian Ladies Social Club get-together, we should make gnocchi. But half of the members are going dairy-free vegan on me. I may be forced to serve lettuce and wine.

After dinner the menfolk sat around looking at YouTube while the gals colored Easter eggs with Rockwell.

A late evening banana makes for a good night’s sleep for little Rockwell.

And everyone dreamt of the baskets filled with chocolate goodies the Easter bunny would leave that night.